


Grita Para Mí

by Dog_Of_War



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Bloodplay, Drug Use, Gunplay, M/M, Permanent Injury, Psychological Torture, Sadism, Sexual Content, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:33:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dog_Of_War/pseuds/Dog_Of_War
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm going to bleed you dry, motherfucker. And you're going to learn to love it." **Updated April 19th**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out of the Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all there is to come, do not expect fluffy happiness to be part of this story.
> 
> ** This has no beta! I'm writing on the fly so feel free to message me with corrections or volunteer to be my grammar hound! **
> 
> Chapter soundtrack: Far Cry 2 - First Morning

Jason was losing track of the days…or was it hours? No, it was maybe a day. The smell of his own dried piss was enough indication that he’s been in here for quite some time. Despite his best efforts the American couldn't keep hold on his bladder for two successions and shamefully eliminated after the pain became unbearable. 

He tests the roughness of rope lashed about his wrists behind his back as if it had become any weaker. Such was false hope.

As of now, his world consists of darkness. There hasn't been a shred of light since the day the helicopter was shot down and Vaas had knocked him out cold. What Jason could piece together was the dirt he lay upon, a touch of his cheek telling him it was heady and damp so it could be underground or a cave maybe. The second piece of information was that he was in a cage that consists of metal and sturdy wood judging by his kicks and previous attempts to throw himself against the small confining square. And third…he was so thirsty it hurt.

Jason’s tongue was thick in his mouth and any attempt to swipe it over his lips provided information of chapped lips he fears will crack and split at any moment. At this point he regrets his earlier attempts at shouting and cursing, seeing if it would draw someone to him, dare them to come to close so that he could kick out and trip them, get his legs around their neck to feel it snap.

There was no reason for him to keep his eyes open in the dark but he did it anyway, straining them until his head hurt.

Was this how he was going to die? After everything he’s already accomplished?

The exhale that left him was shuddered with a different kind of fear before he closes his eyes, willing his brain to shut off.

And immediately snaps his eyes open again when he hears the aching screech of metal.

Jason hisses in pain as his retinas are assaulted with light, curling into himself a little as the light becomes more pronounced in his direction, bobbing and weaving with the heavy steps.

“You. You fucking stink.” A low whisper but Jason knows that accent anywhere now; instinctively his lips form a sneer despite the pain as they crack. “I almost forgot I even fucking put you here. Imagine that.” A soft chuckle. “I need to write shit like this down. Maybe…maybe I should get some fucking post-it notes, ya? Write little reminders on them. Pick up milk. Shoot motherfuckers. Feed motherfuckers to tigers. Water the plants.” Jason could almost feel the casual grin cast upon on him. “Check on Jason Brody in the fucking basement.”

The torchlight shifts so that it was closer to Jason accompanied by the sound of metallic jingling, the heat prickling at his skin. “Fu…fuck.” Christ, he could barely even speak.

A hand reaches out, fingers carding through Jason's hair in a soothing motion. “Shh, shh, shh. You’re okay now. I got you, hermano. I remembered you.” Abruptly the fingers dig into his hair, gripping at the roots and used to haul Jason out the cage.

“You fuck!” Now he finds his voice as he thrashes about like a wild animal, his rage rekindling with the torchlight as eyes adjust to the flickering against stone walls. New pain flares as he feels his hair rip from his scalp in places but Vaas holds on tight and keeps on walking. “Fuck you!” Jason flinches at himself, that his shout was so close to that of a wail.

“Jason.” 

The tone was calm, not something he was used to when dealing with the pirate. Jason stills himself, his chest heaving with frantic gulps of air. 

“You need to watch your **fucking** language!” And then the American was rolling along in the dirt from the boot colliding with his stomach. “I’m being fucking NICE, Jason. I fucking _remembered_ you, you fucking prick!”

Immediately Vaas was in perception again, grabbing Jason’s face and digging fingers into his cheeks, squeezing. “I could have let you fucking rot down here, maggots eating your god damn eyes.” Vaas shoves the other man’s face away from him so he could stand for another kick to Jason’s mid-section.

Jason wasn't expecting to heave up anything but sure enough, thick black bile spills from his mouth out onto the dirt. He lays there panting, his insides churning in warning before he coughs again, his body curling from the force of expulsion.

But then there's fingers in his hair again, petting him. “Now, where were we?” Vaas clicked his tongue a moment in though. “Ah, yes. _Thiiiiis_.” The word is punctuated by the nails digging into his scalp, twisting about the strands to regain his previous hold. 

This time Jason was ready.

With a grunt, he lurches forward, aiming the top of head towards Vaas’ face and feels the blossom of pain as his skull connects. The torch falls from stunned fingers to spread tar dripped sparks as it thuds to the ground. Jason allows himself a second too long of victory as he rolls over and up onto his knees, attempting to get ready for a die-hard sprint.

Vaas is already lunging at him before Jason could completely get his wits about him, tackling the other man down hard onto packed earth and positioning himself on the other's chest with solid weight. Startled eyes look up at the pirate and the smear of red across Vaas’ forehead, the gash starting from above his left eye and across to the bridge of his nose. Blood is a curtain over the dark brow, seeping down into his eye to stain red around an otherwise green iris. A hand reaches up to touch bandaged finger tips to the wound, not even wincing as he presses into the gash as if it was the only way for him to truly feel the pain. Vaas smiles. "Wrong move, motherfucker." The pirate reaches out for the still burning torch, swinging it violently down upon the American.

Jason's world turns black again before he could even register his skin searing under the blaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work as a whole will be super graphic in violence as well as sex.
> 
> This is Vaas at the peak of his hatred and a look at just how deprived he can be when pushed towards the high spectrum of insanity. 
> 
> After all, he wouldn't have a garden of heads if he was of sound mind, now would he?


	2. White As Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whips & chains hurt me.
> 
> But God help us.
> 
> Whips & chains excite him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: April 18th
> 
> Chapter Soundtrack: Puscifer - Trekka -> Indigo Children -> Rev 22:20

He felt cold even though his face was on fire.

A relapse of thinking made him believe he was back into the 'basement' yet the quick reel of memory serves to remind Jason that he was dragged out of the cage. That there had been a smash of fire against his temple and in this lucid waking he wonders if he still has an eyebrow. Instinctively there's an attempt to reach to touch his face but is met with resistance above his head and the soft clank of heavy metal moving against itself.

"There he is. Nice of you to finally fucking join us."

Jason's head jerks up but he can't see anything but the spotted dots of a bonfire behind burlap.

Blindfolded.

"But wait... Wait. One. Fucking minute. I didn't even give you a kiss! Not much of a fucking princess then, are you Snow?"

He's now keenly aware that toes are barely on the ground, feeling the grains of loose soil as he shifts himself, rattling chains above his head once again. Jaw sets as he turns his head left and then right, trying desperately to locate the positioning of the deranged man as if it might alleviate the lead ball of dread taking residence in the pit of his stomach. _Focus, Jason, focus.... ___

__A soft 'thup' to his right. Jason's head snaps in the direction and can see a grainy outline move just outside his peripheral._ _

__Jason didn't realize he was holding his breath until it hitches when a hand reaches out to touch his hip and instinctively he jerks away from the feeling on bare skin. Somewhere behind him Vaas makes a laugh that verged on a throaty growl._ _

__"Guess I didn't put you into a deep enough sleep, hermano."_ _

___Fuckfuckfuck._ His brain is slow from the club to his head, Jason not cataloging his lack of clothing until that ghost of sensation. A steady creep of anxiety blackens the edges of thought, sick little claws playing games with Jason's heart to make it jump and spasm in his chest._ _

__"Allow me to try again, hm?" Whisper soft against the base of his neck._ _

__The reaction is immediate, his skin breaking out into chills and hair raising at the inherent danger so close by. Jason opens his mouth to curse for the pirate to get away from him but shock overrides all conscious thought when there's a quick backhand to his left ass cheek._ _

__"STOP!" Jason can't keep the shrill tone completely out of his voice. As if to regain composure he twists within the confines of his chains, using them to hold his weight to kick legs out blindly, wishing...wishing so damn bad to connect to flesh, to hear a grunt of pain._ _

__He gets nothing but air and Vaas laughing, laughing deep in his chest._ _

__"Stop, stop!" Vaas calls out behind him, mocking him in a high pitched tone._ _

__He hears the pirate's breathy chuckle and freezes at the vice grip to the back of his neck, jagged nails biting flesh. "You look like a damn fish stuck on a fucking spear. Have some fucking dignity, Jason." Vaas punctuates his statement with another backhand to the same area. This time Jason steels his jaw and refuses to budge, exhaling a heavy breath through flared nostrils and he can feel it in his very pores as Vaas moves away from him again._ _

__"Now. Back to regularly scheduled program."_ _

__The soft 'thup' sound again._ _

__"You. Jason. You. Are going to tell me...where the fuck...those Rakyat motherfuckers are hiding."_ _

__Jason licks over his split lip, tasting the tang of copper, finding strength in the tang. "Go to hell Vaas."_ _

__"Bzzzzt! Wrong answer, amigo."_ _

__He wasn't ready._ _

__Mother of God, he wasn't ready._ _

__The scream escapes from him, drowning out the next succeeding three cracks of man made thunder. Agonizing pain flares bright and hot in his eyes, giving light that doesn't allow him to see but to drown as the skin parts in four great lines along his backside. The slick rivers of blood are like a hellish cape as it runs down from the gaping slashes, rivulets forming along muscle lines to slide over the curve of his ass and between naked cheeks._ _

__He can't focus, he can hardly breathe with throat constricting, his lungs wanting to expel air rather than take it in._ _

__"How does it go, Jason? And skin..."_ _

__Another snap of the whip sunk teeth into his right hip, forcing the American to choke on pain induced vomit._ _

__"..As white..."_ _

__Around came the whip again, striking high to tear a red stripe from tricep to shoulder._ _

__"...As fucking snow."_ _

__Jason sobs._ _

__He chokes on his own spit._ _

__Pain has taken a hold of him and tears at every nerve. Sheer panic scratches at the surface of his psyche when that soft 'thup' of the whip settling on the ground reaches his ears over the thundering of his own rapid heartbeat._ _

__"Jason, Jason, Jason." Vaas' hands settle on his hips, just above the seeping wound. His body is shaking, he's lost control over the jump and quiver of muscles even as the scrape of stubble runs over his neck, hot breath puffing near the shell of his ear. "Shut the fuck up."_ _

__Vaas' tone seems to make it worse and he bites the inside of his cheek, half stopping the shaky intake of air as another waves of spasms takes over._ _

__"Hey." The other man's voice is quite and light, as though soothing a frightened animal. Hands slide forward from Jason's hips, gliding over clenched abs and back around in an embrace, bringing Vaas flush against the other man's ruined backside. "Listen to me, hermano..."_ _

__The American stiffens visibly when the contact becomes intimately close, eyes squeezing shut behind the dirty burlap blindfold._ _

__And that's when he feels it, during the seconds of calm in his being._ _

__Vaas' erection is nestled in the lower curve of his ass._ _

__"I haven't even fucking started yet."_ _


	3. Tyger Tyger Burning Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyger Tyger burning bright,  
> In the forests of the night:  
> What immortal hand or eye,  
> Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated: April 19th
> 
> Chapter Soundtrack: Natalie Tardif - Okay (Soundcloud)

Jason feels the cloth stick to his backside as Vaas whisks himself away with the distinct sound of boots scraping circles through the dirt, as if the pirate were twirling in a circle with his hellion whip. He can hardly think straight, every portion of his backside felt as if painted with fire while his extremities reach artic temperatures, his blood seemingly confused on just where it should flow.

"Have you changed your mind, hm?" To emphasize his point, Vaas cracks the whip to the ground, spraying soil at naked calves. "Or are you enjoying this as much as I am?" The amused litany causes Jason's insides to twist.

But his mouth can only hang open, as useless as the spit drying on his chin and down his throat, and he wasn't sure if he could speak even if he wanted to give his allies away. Silence only earns another whip crack, this time it grazes his outer thigh, body jerking heavily to set Jason to swinging from side to side.

"I'm getting tired of asking questions, Jason!"

Jason flinches at the next whip crack.

"And not getting any FUCKING answers back!"

Trying to swallow feels like it takes all his energy. "N-never going...going to tell you." Jason would almost be proud of his own conviction if he could stop shivering at the feel of his blood sliding down his legs. "You sick bastard!"

Vaas clicks his tongue as he approaches and places the curve of the whip against the small of Jason's back. "Well, that's very unfortunate. But you know...I've always wondered what a man would look like with stripes." He gives a harsh push with the whip to the other man's back, setting him swinging once more. "Thank you for volunteering. That was very brave." Even blindfolded, Jason can see the weight of his choices fall upon him the moment Vaas pats him almost too gently on his buttock.

The moment the sweep of rough fingers drags away from his skin is like a promise, a promise that Jason's screams won't stop until his voice gives out.

It dawns on him that the space between when the whipping started and up until now was too long, too long that adrenaline spiked blood was fading away, pain endorphins slowly ebbing so that he could feel the crawl of burns return. Too long and too calculated. Jason has trouble breathing. He feels like he's in the ocean with the sharks again, their senses trained on the blood pool around him. Nothing but black eyes, savage teeth and no souls.

"Very brave."

When the tail of the whip parts his skin next, all he can picture is being eaten alive, to feel as though a thousand teeth are digging into soft flesh with intention to rend it apart. And he knows he's screaming but ears are blocking it out, refusing to acknowledge such sounds are coming from himself. The body still twists and turns as if to avoid the lashes after they already make contact, his fingers straining to grab the chains above his head. _Pull yourself up! Escape!_ But Jason can only cling to them, using the metallic links like a lifeline against the storm. The wetness gathering upon his cheeks is either tears or blood splatter, he can't be sure.

_Crack!_

Scream.

_Crack!_

Cry.

_Crack!_

Plead.

_Crack!_

Repeat.

It's unrelenting, unending. Jason isn't even sure if Vaas has actually stopped whipping him or if his nerves have been completely flayed off. 

The thrashing of wounds bloom steadily at his triceps and have traveled all the way to just above the backs of his knees. Strikes that appear random but are too symmetrical for wild abandon. Each following of the whip is met by too many heartbeats of silence, contemplation of where the next blow should land, where the next scar needs to begin and end.

Jason feels like he might be breaking. His strength is crumbling with each wash of pain and hearing the other man prowling behind him.

At this precise point is when Jason experiences his mind attempting to black out or he's finally losing enough blood to pass out. A slow rolling fog steadily collects around him, blanketing his senses. In the back of his throat he whimpers, mentally clawing at the haze to drag it around him even more as if it would save him.

Words are spoken but he almost can't make them out, sounding so far away and muddled.

" _Accept it._ "

Jason's breathing evens out, hitching only when the strike of the whip hits him and settling again briefly after.

" _Embrace it_."

There's no words now, only feeling. White hot fire that warms instead of consumes. Rivers of red that refresh as he bleeds. Drums that speak of peace, not panic.

Fingers are grazing over Jason's backside, painting with his blood over the expanse of tattered skin and yet Jason tips his head back with a sigh. The sensations ignites a memory of heavy rain falling, hard drops that hit his skin before sliding down his spine. Chills come over him despite warm air and open wounds, raising the hair of his neck. Jason sighs as though expelling demons long trapped inside. There's no reference for when his blindfold was removed but all Jason can see is stars above, so bright and crisp in the midnight wash of sky.

A hand is in his hair now and it grips tightly, preventing him from staring at anything else. An arm around his waist to pull him flush against the body behind him. Whispers of breath are low on his shoulder blade.

" _Estoy loco por ti..._ "

Jason can feel the thickness rubbing against his ass, the slide of flesh on flesh made easy by his own blood. He can smell it in the air, blood and sweat. The grip around his waist tightens as the upward thrusts picks up in pace, nearly bowing Jason's body as Vaas ruts against him. His own hands form a white knuckle grip around the chain above, finding his breaths matching those panted against his torn backside. A strangled sound comes from Jason when the fluid slicked head hits and slips up away from his hole. Nails dig into his scalp, his hip in answer but Vaas only does it again and again. Each aimed shot a lazy attempt to press into clenched muscle if only to hear Jason's hisses and choked noise of complaint.

Teeth are what drag Jason down, an anchor that is forcing Jason back from his safe haven, edges losing their blur to become more focused. A shout of pain as he feels the skin break, his body a taunt wire as Vaas' becomes loose with a groan of pleasure embedded into Jason's very flesh.

The American doesn't register when the pirate steps away and all too soon hands are on his chest but they still glide so easily on skin. He tips his head forward now and there's Vaas standing in front of him, the red of Jason's blood is all over him. Streaks over his chest and arms. Spatters on his face. Mouth stained red as he licks the corner.

Jason remembers the sharks again.

"Guess I should clean you up, hm? Be a fucking shame if my new pet died from its own stripes."

He misses the sharks.


End file.
